


Jealous Gods

by rose_griffes



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Angst, Belief, F/M, Marriage, identity crisis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-01-08
Updated: 2008-01-08
Packaged: 2017-10-24 01:20:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/257281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rose_griffes/pseuds/rose_griffes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Too much happiness would invite the jealousy of the Gods.  Kara Thrace on New Caprica.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jealous Gods

**Author's Note:**

> section titles from [McSweeney’s lists](http://www.mcsweeneys.net/links/lists/).

_Things I Have Learned from Ex-Boyfriends_

He told her she was beautiful. The Starbuck glare didn’t make him stop--either he was unfazed or she was out of practice.

Zak had told her she was hot, sexy. Maybe it was because she’d been his flight instructor first, maybe because they’d both been so young but somehow they’d missed that step. He’d never used the word beautiful to describe her. She had felt it, though, when he looked at her; his smile so proud when she put on her prettiest dress and did her hair and makeup.

Maybe it was the Adama men. Lee never told her she was beautiful either. He complimented her knee. He _looked_ at her, though--angry glares, eyes drifting to her chest when they played Triad, harsh words instead of flattery.

“You’re beautiful,” Sam repeated, whispering it into her neck, placing the tip of his nose just above her collarbone. It was cold, making her jump and involuntarily laugh.

“Stop that!” she ordered--she couldn’t tell if she meant touching her with his cold skin or saying the words. He moved his mouth to the same spot, traced her collarbone with his tongue and blew on the line he drew.

“You’re beautiful.” Using his mouth he inched up her neck behind her ear.

She grabbed his shirt and pulled it over his head then started to unbuckle his pants. “What about when I’m old and wrinkly?”

“You’ll still be beautiful then.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you’ll be senile and won’t know any better.”

He grinned against her mouth. “Senile and horny. But not blind, and you’ll still be beautiful.”

They stumbled over to the cot; she pushed him down first then crawled on top of him. Kissing again--Sam’s hand was sliding under her shirt at her belly.

“You’re delusional,” she whispered.

He pulled his arm up, put both hands on the side of her head and pushed her back to look at her face. “I’ll always think you’re beautiful.” His light blue eyes were serious. She moved forward, fitting her mouth to his because she didn’t know what else to say.

  
 _Rarely Used Parenthetical Statements_

He didn't say it tenderly; they weren't that kind of couple and she'd mocked him the only time he tried. Now he said it when she was annoyed so it was okay not to say it back then. Or he waited until they were in the middle of a game of pyramid, on opposing teams. "Love you, babe," he'd yell after she tried some illegal block. ("It's only illegal if you're caught," she would mumble later.)

He never said it in a way that implied expectations of hearing it from her. She didn't say it anymore, not after Zak (and Lee). She was afraid to let the words slip out. Too much happiness would invite the jealousy of the Gods. (Lee... his sideways glances turned into declarations of love that she didn't deserve. She pushed it away before the Gods could notice.)

One cold morning, though--usually she kicked him out of bed to stoke the fire, which resulted in him teasing her out of a surly mood, which in turn sometimes led to loud, laughing morning sex. That morning she grabbed his arm to keep him from getting out of bed. Blankets pulled over their heads to keep the cold air at bay, the dark made her feel safe. She murmured the words into the curve of his shoulder. His hands traced her spine, her face, her lips and he knew not to say anything in return.

  
 _Alternate Fairy-Tale Endings to take the place of “And they lived happily ever after.”_

Screaming, she threw the clay pot at Sam's head. He ducked, it flew past him and for a moment she wanted to take the pot and smash it on him. That’s when she stopped. Feeling her raw vocal cords, the adrenaline buzzing through her, the anger, wanting to hurt him--this must be how Mama had felt when she was hitting Kara, when she was little.

Stumbling outside, she started to run between the rows of tents, ran past them to the edge and beyond. Up the low hill overlooking the creek, she reached the top and shrieked until she couldn’t any more. Arms curled around her legs she sat on the cold ground, her long hair tangled over her knees and stuck to her damp face. She sniffled and thought, "I do _not_ cry." Wiping her nose on the edge of her sleeve, she laughed at herself for acting like a snot-nosed kid.

A good wife doesn't try to split open her husband's head. A good person... she wasn’t a good person.

She walked back to the settlement, not ready to see Sam yet but unwilling to be alone with her thoughts any longer. The sky overhead was gray-black, no stars visible, just like always. Near the tent being used as a bar she found a card game.

One of the ECO’s from a Pegasus raptor recognized her. “Hey, Starbuck! Come join the game!”

Smirking by reflex she hooked her ankle around an empty chair and sat down. She grabbed a sip of booze from the ECO’s jar--Blinkers, that’s what his call sign was--and grinned at him.

Three hands later she’d raked in a good portion of the pot. Another sip of the booze--it made her eyes water and suddenly she wanted to be back in their tent, hers and Sam’s. “Been nice taking you suckers for a ride,” she announced and headed for the exit.

Blinkers started to stand too. She leaned over and pushed him back in his seat. “You stay here and try paying attention to the cards now that I’m not around. Maybe you’ll win a few hands.” She laughed at his look of dismay and sauntered out.

Steps slowing as she reached her destination she pulled back the flap to their tent, unsure of what she’d find.

Sam was sitting in a chair, elbows on his knees, head down. His boots were coated with a fresh layer of mud. He finally looked up. She couldn’t say it--couldn't find the words to apologize, wouldn’t look at his face, his eyes filled with hope and desperation. So she knelt down and started working out the knots from his wet bootlaces.

“Kara.” His voice cracked and she looked up in spite of herself. He stood and pulled her up too. Wrapping his arms around her tightly, squeezing her until she almost couldn’t breathe. “Kara,” he said again. If he’d said anything else she might’ve run again. Instead she buried her face in his chest and let her eyes close.

  
 _Grimm Fairy Tales Made Decidedly More Grim_

The mudball. Gods, she'd never expected to end up here. No wings, except those tattooed on their arms. No hot water except what they boiled--she actually missed Galactica's piss-poor water pressure in its showers. She made an art of complaining but in some ways she was the happiest she'd ever been.

Parts of Kara that she’d thought she'd left behind, forgotten or buried, poked through the surface. She abandoned the bits that made her Starbuck. Sometimes she felt like she was made of exposed nerve endings, pieces of herself cut away. Other times her happiness was so sharp; she was alive and loved and that’s when she remembered what she gave up for this. She’s ripped herself in two and the halves don’t fit together any more.

She waits for the Gods to take this away from her because she doesn't deserve it.

Instead they take _her_ away.


End file.
